


this feeling that my life has begun at last

by pontmercy_ing



Series: here's to the dreams i dreamt. ( fantine week 2018 ) [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Fantine Week, Gen, I'm Sorry Victor Hugo, actually, bby fantine, but u suck, fantine and friends, fantine's childhood, happy fantine, victor hugo can suck it, young fantine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 23:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16670374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pontmercy_ing/pseuds/pontmercy_ing
Summary: She saw many people kneeling down as they asked for something from a poor looking man standing behind a cross. She wondered why. But she followed suit, and knelt down on the rough floor outside the doors. And she asked for a friend.( day one: youth/childhood )





	this feeling that my life has begun at last

**A YOUNG GIRL** , no more than four years of age, could be seen staring distantly at this very large house. She didn’t know if it could be even considered as a house. But she often heard sayings of it being a home for everyone.

     Bells can be heard ringing from the house. She didn’t know where, but she was curious.

     She watched a man and a woman walking out of the doors wearing beautiful garments as everyone around them applauds and say their blessings. They were happy and they looked like they love each other. She decided she wants it. Then, she entered through its doors and saw a child shouting for his mother and father. The mother petted the child and started doting on him. The father merely scooped the child up in his arms with a smile painted on his face. They looked happy and they love each other. The child decided she wants it.

     As the family went on their way, the child looked over his father’s shoulder. The child saw her. He grinned at her toothily and waved at her. The young street child followed with a rare smile of her own and a wave.

     A friend…

     She didn’t have one. But she would see children of her age, wearing beautiful dresses or not, playing and laughing with each other. She would see older people walking side by side with each other, and she was quite surprised to see they weren’t flinching when one of them touches the other.

 _Is this what it is, then? Having a friend?_ thought the young girl. Weeks before, she heard someone introducing a fellow person as their good friend to their family. They seemed happy. _If so, I wish for a friend then._

     She saw many people kneeling down as they asked for something from a poor looking man standing behind a cross. She wondered why. But she followed suit, and knelt down on the rough floor outside the doors. And she asked for a friend.

     Now the young girl may be innocent to the world, but she wasn’t immune to its troubles.

     One day as she was making her rounds around the town asking for a sou or a crumb of bread, a man, far older the she will ever be, came up from behind her and grabbed her. She screamed. But she was alone and defenseless.

     “Stop it, will you!” the man demanded. “It’s useless!” And he tried to force her into a wagon pulled by two horses.

     She still screamed for help.

     Then, a woman and a man came in. “What on earth are you doing, old man?” the woman spoke in indignation. “Let the child go!”

     The old man ceased but still held the child with his hairy and sleeved arms. He answered in a rough and hoarse voice, “Begging your pardon, mademoiselle, but—”

     The woman flared. “But what? Pray tell! What gives you the right to take this poor child against her will?”

     The man finally spoke with a firm voice, “Sir, if you may kindly do so, please release the poor girl.”

     “It’ll be useless, sir,” he begged, tightening his grip. The child flinched as his nails dug into her skin. “This one has no family, so no one to provide for her but pray that she might be sent into good work as soon as she is in the markets. Trust me, it’ll be much more better for her.”

     The girl didn’t know why they didn’t just go. But, she’s hopeful that they might stay and save her.

     The woman turned to her and asked, “Do you have a family, little girl?” There was something in her eyes, but it made the girl trust her.

     The little child didn’t know where her family is. All she could remember was that she encountered a blow to the back and that she had been walking for a very long time now. But for a brief time, she was curious about her origins as every child should.

     So, she shook her head.

     “See!” exclaimed the old man. His arms immediately went to carry her off the ground and into the carriage. The child squirmed and shrieked as she released tears with her near kidnapper’s arms holding her.

     “No!”

     “Oh, for God’s sake, Monsieur, let her go!”

     The old man was wearing a bewildered look. “But, sir! Madame! Hear me out. I sell people, yes! But it’s the only job that gets me by, good people.” The pair still wore looks of irritation. The old man still pleads, “My employer shall beat me if I don’t make a sale. I’ll be living in the streets again. And—And I thought this young girl would do me good if I sell her in the market. Forgive me, please!”

     The pair shared a look with each other. Then, the man took out a pouch that sounded with clinks and handed it to the old man.

     “For your troubles, then.”

     The old man instantly let go of the child and the woman rushed to her.

     The old man gasped and bowed to the young man. “Many thanks, sir! Thank you, sir! Thank you!”

     "Yes, yes, yes.” The young man waved him off. “Now, be off please.”

     The old man bowed and thanked him again and took his wagon and business away.

     “Hello, little one. Are you alright?” asked the woman. The child looked at her and thought her beautiful despite the fact she was almost blinded by her tears.

     “Hurt,” she simply replied.

     “Yes, we see that,” remarked the man eyeing the multiple scratches and bruises on her arms, legs and her face. The woman scolded him. And they took her to a doctor to treat her wounds and the pair gave her food and water.

     The young girl had never felt so comfortable in her life.

     “I believe we haven’t introduced ourselves, little one,” said the man.

     The young girl peered at him curiously. “I’m Phillippe Beaufort, and this is my sister, Felicity Beaufort.”

     “What about you, little one?” asked Felicity. “What’s your name?”

     And came the usual reply of “I do not know, Mademoiselle.”

     They frowned.

     “Well, how would you like if we give you a name, then?”

     The young girl raised her head and her mouth was agape. A name! She could finally have a name. Now, the poor child wanders along freely in the streets of France without a name to protect her person. And whenever she asks for a piece of bread or even just for a sou or two, some curious minds would ask for her name to which she would always reply, “I do not know, Madame” or “I can’t seem to remember, Monsieur” and they’d be on their way and she’d be on her way. She instantly nodded her head with an eager look.

     They instantly started a naming game.

     “Rose, then? Ah, no, no! Quite common now.”

     “Natasha, then?”

     “Too Russian for my taste.”

     “Alexandria?”

     “Helen?”

     “Anne? Anna?”

     “Ah! How about Agathe?”

     This went on for ages. Truly, it was just for thirty minutes. But they were having such joy with this occasion.

     Felicity, after such deep thought then exclaimed, “I have it!” She turned to the child with a smile. “I believe this might suit you quite beautifully, young one.”

     “What? What?” the child eagerly asked.

     “Fantine!”

     Phillippe scrunched his nose. “Fantine? Ah, yes! A reversal of the syllables of the word ‘infant’. What a truly marvelous usage, dear sister!”

     Felicity started hitting him with a couch cushion while the young girl giggles by.

     “I like it,” the young girl announced as soon as the hitting finished.

     Phillippe sighed in disbelief. “Well, it does suit you.” He pursed his lips then smiled at the girl. “Fantine.”

     Felicity smugly grinned.

     But little Fantine celebrated that she’s no longer the dirt nor a ghost nor someone anyone can ignore. She is someone now. Her stomach is flying with butterflies in it. She will finally be remembered by something other than an orphan in the streets.

     And truly, Fantine is now someone who shall be remembered for generations to come. Especially by a brunette lady and her husband.

**Author's Note:**

> can we enjoy happy fantine for a while pls pretty pls
> 
> also more fantine fics pls??
> 
> kudos and criticisms are more than welcome!!!!


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